Legends from The Warlock's Chair - Book One - Ravengaard

Chapter Six - Sildo Gweir's secret

CERADIN RAVENGAARD peered into the mirrored surface of the scrying pool. He seethed with anger. The three children walking happily in the gardens had prevented him from returning. They—and those interfering Elves—had managed to defeat the Dark Witch and dispatch them back into this desolate world. He had been stopped at the last moment. His return cruelly snatched away by the boy smashing the witch's staff.

A door creaked open, he spun towards the sound. Caranaxus entered the room. She acknowledged the Warlock with a slight bow. The Witch crossed the room, walking with a slight stoop. She was changed observed, gone was the young beautiful creature he had once known. In its place was a haggard bent crone. It seemed that his return was not the only thing that was snatched away when the boy had destroyed her staff. Her long ebony hair, now streaked with grey, fell across her pale shrunken features. She straightened as best she could, flicking the hair aside with her long talon-like fingernails. The dark slits of her silvery eyes—the only part that had remained unchanged—were fixed on Ravengaard. 

'Master. You summoned me?' Caranaxus whispered.

'Yes,' he acknowledged. 'I grow impatient; I had hoped you would have some good news for me.

'We are still searching the libraries, my Lord, unfortunately, we have obtained nothing yet. With my staff destroyed we are in need of extremely powerful magic to do our bidding.'

He glowered, hooded eyes cutting into her. He outstretched a hand, conjuring a sparkling ball of light which floated above his palm.

She cowered. The magic that bound her to him flared inside her, causing pain to course through her body. 'I am certain we will find it soon Master,' she gasped. 'We are very close.'

He withdrew the magic. 'Go, find me those spells,' he sneered giving a dismissing wave of his hand.

'Yes master,' she bowed respectfully, and backed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Once in the passageway beyond, all evidence of subservience disappeared. Her eyes narrowed and a faint smile crossed her wizened face. He still required her services, or she would have died in that room. But he could not do it. For all his power he was still shackled to this world.

The magical restraints containing him had weakened a little over the millennia. It allowed lesser beings, like herself, to cross over with the help of powerful witchcraft. But the Warlock remained, still tied to this terrible place.

He had been the focus of the containment spell cast by the short-lived alliance, it was supposed to banish him forever. But the weakening of the mystical barriers had allowed some movement between the worlds. She had carved the staff and with help, imbued it with powerful sorcery. It had allowed her to push through the confines of the barrier into the world of today.

Next, it had been a simple task to seek out the children. According to the portents, they would play a significant part in the unfolding histories. Especially the youngest, who, although she did not realize it, possessed power to rival her own.

With the child in her grasp, she began syphoning off some of that energy, supplementing her own powers. Then she had started the enchantments that would enable her to bring Ravengaard back through time and space. All had been going well until those interfering brats had intervened. With the staff smashed she had been thrown back to this infernal world. The ruby gem—with the power to keep her young—just one of its many capabilities, lay broken, and she returned to her true age. It required time to repair, but not before she had helped return the sorcerer to his rightful place. 

It was rumoured that more powerful spells lay hidden within the ancient scripts which lay in the libraries beneath the keep. Spells that would reverse the sorcery that imprisoned them.